Young Again
by Laura Latts
Summary: Dipper and Mabel are fooling around with the journals and now Ford has to fix their mistake with Stan's help. (Before Dipper and Mabel vs the Future. Rated T for language.)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So I'm doing a fic for dodofiasco's picture of the Stan Twins suddenly turning young on tumblr. I meant a quick one-shot, but it then it seemed like there should be more.  
_

* * *

From about a mile away, you might be able to faintly hear their voices. In the front yard, it's a little clearer and it's easy to tell it's not good. If you were right in the room though, most human ear drums that were not in the habit of being bombarded by exceedingly loud noises ranging from screams of children to deconstruction in cities were sure to feel a pop and then soon a trickling of something wet from all the ruckus being made.

Between angry shouts and hysteric laughter to cries of pain and deep bass groans, one's ears may not bleed but they will ring for a good while afterwards.

"I'm sorry! I'm really _REALLY_ sorry!", Dipper said between aching fits of laugh, his stomach constricting too hard for him to properly breathe. "But-! Ha ha ha ha ha ha- ow! Ooh, ow! Ha ha ha!"

"You guys were so freaked! It's hilarious!", Mabel also heaved in laughter next to her brother, tears streaming down her face.

"Children this isn't funny!", Ford's booming voice was enough to be felt through the floorboards Dipper and Mabel were helplessly resting on. "I've warned you not to mess with the journals and NOW look at what you've done!"

"Kids I told you you weren't supposed to use that spooky book for ANYTHING but self-defense!", Stanley was also shouting. "Not only did you use it just to be STUPID, but you had to use Ford and I for your _guinea pigs?!_ "

Dipper and Mabel tried to calm down and soon rested into breathless giggles before Dipper picked himself up and dried his eyes.

"I know, it was stupid..", he said. "But oh-ho man I didn't expect you guys to react so badly!"

"Well what else do you expect when they wake up and find out they're suddenly 30 because they saw each other?", Mabel giggled.

"Dipper, I KNOW you're more rational than this!", Ford rolled his eyes in frustration. "What on earth were you thinking?!"

"If you were thinking about using that stupid thing on yourselves-", Stan began, pointing his now-useless glasses at them.

"No! No no, I know, we're already really young.", Dipper chuckled. "Okay, okay, lemme start from the top…"

–

Mabel and Dipper were playing in the attic and talking about the journal meanwhile, when Mabel pointed out something.

"You know, for three whole journals full of weird stuff in Gravity Falls, I'm surprised that we don't use more spells and magic-y things.", she mentioned. "Like, when did we ever need to chant a spell or gather some weird ingredient besides the unicorn hair?"

"Well you know there was that time we went into Grunkle Stan's mind to stop Bill and when I raised the dead, but I guess you've got a point.", Dipper nodded. "We don't do a lot of magic ourselves for a place full of magical creatures.. Actually there was one I was kinda curious about. Grunkle Ford wrote in his journal that even he hadn't tested it out yet, and that there wasn't a lot to it, more of a rumor than anything. But he was planning to try it sometime later on his life."

Dipper pulled out Journal 1 and flipped about the paged. He came across it and the two looked over and smiled at the youth spell Ford had written.

"See, it goes- Oh. Wait, shouldn't say it.", Dipper laughed a little. "Might turn us to toddlers or something!"

"We should test it and see how it works!", Mabel encouraged with enthusiasm. "It's been so boring lately."

"Yeah but how?", Dipper asked. "We should test it on something REALLY old.."

Suddenly Mabel gasped and smiled widely. Dipper looked at her and then soon caught the implication as he grinned too.

While Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford were both asleep, the kids snuck into their rooms and chanted the spell. Nothing happened and both sighed and returned to the attic.

"I guess it was a hoax.", Dipper shrugged while they sat on their beds.

"Aw, that would've been neat though.", Mabel flopped backwards onto hers. "See what Stan and Ford were like YOUNG."

"Yeah, how weird would that look?", Dipper teased. "Can you imagine? A YOUNG Stan?"

Mabel giggled.

" _Ew!_ That'd be like.. A young version of McGucket!", she shook her head.

They laughed a little and decided to fall asleep, unaware the spell had to take affect over the night. The next morning, Stan had decided to skip washing up in the bathroom. A forceful headache blocked out other thoughts in its demand for coffee as he got loosely dressed and bleary-eyed made his way to the kitchen.

Ford woke up as well, readjusted his glasses, though his eyes were still closed and stretched, trying to shake off the restless feel of another night's broken sleep. He sighed and made a mental note that he forgot to change before bed again and peered about the bedroom. He felt foggy-minded as he made his way through the house, hoping coffee would make it easier to fluently speak with censorship.

The twins reached the kitchen, one shortly after the other, and rubbed the tiredness from their eyes as they mumbled greetings.

Ford started coffee and stood by the pot, waiting for it to finish.

Stan scratched his head and then felt a distinct amount of thickness to his hair.

It was enough to break through his headache to make him alert as he reached further back and felt more and more locks.

Stanley opened his eyes and took a good look at his brother but had to rub his eyes again and make sure he was seeing straight. Actually he could barely see at all until he removed his glasses. And then shouts of surprise woke him, his brother, and the kids, up.

"Gah! Stanley what the-?" Ford stopped short, hearing a lack of old-man-hoarseness in his voice.

Ford turned around and was met with a wide-eyed, mullet-styling, wrinkles-missing twin brother. He gasped at the sight of it and felt his own face. Smoother with a bit of stub around his chin. His overgrown sideburns were shorter, his hair was thicker and fell in a mess on his head instead of standing up from countless hours of holding his head up over books.

Stanley was also panicking and feeling over to make sure he was thinking right. But the deep brown overgrown hair he could pull over his shoulder to see was proof enough and he could feel the blood rush in excitement and panic. Callouses returned to his hands instead of the dried, crusty, skin he always had. There was more color in them too. It was as if they had woken up and it was '82 all over again.

"Hot Belgium Waffles, what happened?!", Stanley asked, surprised again at also feeling a less of gruff and a lack of hoarse in his voice.

"I-I-I don't know!", Ford replied. "I don't know what happened, or _why_ this happened!"

"Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, what is it? What's wrong?!", the kids came rushing in.

When Dipper and Mabel arrived on the scene, finding the Stan Twins gawking at each other and almost in a state of panic, the two couldn't help but roll with laughter. Later, after everything was explained, they all sat in the living room trying to decide the day's course of action.

"Well first thing I'm gonna do is cut this stupid hair.", Stanley grimaced, having to pull back on it a little, just to remind himself again that that's what he really used to look like.

"NO! you shouldn't!", Mabel gasped. "It's so beautiful!"

"Beautifully HIDEOUS if you ask me..", Stanley argued.

"Dipper, I understand where you were coming from but do understand this is a GRAVE mistake.", Stanford was saying after he finished his second cup and was able to comprehend it all.

"Why?", everyone asked.

"We look kinda silly, sure, but y'know isn't it kind of a good thing to have that kinda time back?", Stan asked.

"Try to understand Stanley. First of all, I don't know all the side affects caused by this spell. I never, EVER, had the chance to use it before.", Ford began to list. "Secondly, I don't know exactly how stupid everyone in Gravity Falls is but I doubt they're going to buy that the original Mr. Mystery had been able to use movie make-up to make him look THAT young."

"Okay, well you've kinda got me there..", Stan scratched at the five-o-clock shadow around his chin.

"Thirdly– and this is most important– even if there are no horrible side affects of this spell and even if people will buy the 'New and Improved Mr. Mystery' shtick, even if everything blows over smoothly and we've been given another 30 or so years to live again, what are you going to tell Dipper and Mabel's parents when you have to drop them off at the end of Summer?"

"Yikes..", Stanley grimaced.

The first to come to Stanley's mind was trying to imagine starting a conversation when they ask questions with, _"Well to start over, my real name's Stanley-"_ and it would only go that far before he got stuck.

"Oh wow, I didn't think of that..", Dipper cringed. "Well it's okay though because there's a reverse for it, right Grunkle Ford?"

"No. And that was going to be my fourth point.", Ford corrected. "It was only a sort of foot-note in some ancient texts. There was no real study involved in it, it was a guess, an example of what the real structure of spell-casting is like! I didn't even believe it could be real but I wrote it down to test some day just to see if it bore any truth."

"So what does that mean?", Stanley asked, frowning. "You sayin' we're actually going to just be stuck like this from now on?"

"No, hopefully I can dig up those scrolls again and see what they had to say. I was always one to follow instructions rather than trying to improvise, but hopefully the texts will give enough information that I can cobble together a reversal spell.", Ford explained.

"Alright then in the mean time since I can't be Mr. Mystery..", Stanley tossed his fez to Mabel, surprising her as she caught it. "Mabel, you're back in charge of the shack."

"You're letting a 12 year-old take charge of the business?", Ford asked.

"She kept her head up for 3 days. I trust her.", Stan smiled at her.

Mabel smiled back, a little touched. She wasn't sure at first but seeing Stan's faith in her helped her to take a breath before putting the fez back on.

"Okay. Boss Mabel is back in action.", she declared, ready to tackle the job.

"…this is going to be scary.", Dipper quickly confirmed in his mind, remembering last time.


	2. Chapter 2

While the kids were working the Mystery Shack and getting it into full swing, Stanley had cut off his mullet in the bathroom. Something caught his attention though and he paused to pull back his undershirt and see more clearly.

The burn scar was missing.

It seemed weird. He could almost still see it. Thinking back, he could remember the searing pain from being hit against that desk. He sighed a little and stood back to think over how he and Ford were fighting way back when. It almost felt silly now. ..almost.

 _"Some brother you turned out to be…"_ , he remembered saying. _"You care more about your dumb mysteries than your family? Than you can keep them!"_

Stan sighed and couldn't help but wonder what Ford was up to or what he thought about all this.

Ford was digging through drawer after drawer, pulling out thick stacks of paper and flipping only two or three of them before determining that they weren't what he was looking for and he sat them aside. Ford groaned a little and brushed back his hair, trying to think back to where he could've set them. He sat back in his chair and rubbed his forehead.

 _'…I couldn't have gotten rid of them..'_ , he thought to himself. _'I don't like to get rid of anything. I know, I'm a bit of a pack-rat. But it was all very important to research.'_

Ford couldn't help but notice the mirror covered with a tarp in his room. Curiosity couldn't help but sweep by and he decided to walk over and pull back enough to look back at his younger reflection. It almost startled him but after a moment to adjust, he mentally compared it to that of what he was really supposed to look like.

 _"When did we become old men?"_

Ford sighed to himself. He thought back to how much things had changed since he was just a kid.

 _"Where ever we go, we go together."_ , Stanley promised him way back in their childhood.

 _"It was supposed to be you and me forever, you ruined my life!"_ , it seemed to obliterate such an innocent childhood, as Ford remembered their fight.

He felt a pang of regret, especially recalling the burn Stanley received when Ford kicked him.

 _'I have hoped he had that treated..'_ , Ford sighed.

It didn't fly over his head that Stanley might've not had the money to see a proper doctor with a burn like that. But understanding he had survived well into his late 60's and still seemed healthy, Ford had tried not to think much of it. Yet now, here he was, analyzing their fight and something didn't settle right with him. He couldn't even recall when it all began, why they started shouting at each other to begin with. It felt like a blur in his mind.

Ford sighed and rubbed his eyes.

 _'I need to get back on track.'_ , he thought. _'Now let's see… They have to be here somewhere…'_

While Dipper and Mabel were entertaining tourists, Stanley kept to the house-section of the shack and wandered about, somewhat bored. On his way by the bedroom, he heard a rustle of paper and Ford groaning in frustration. Stanley couldn't help but be curious enough to backtrack himself and peek in.

Ford was sitting in the middle of the floor, virtually swamped by folders, scrolls, books, and loose paper all around him.

"…Hey.", Stanley called in.

Ford twisted around to see Lee in the door and gave a small nod.

"Yes?", he asked, deciding to shrug off any comment about Stan's less-than-professional hair cut.

"Um..", Stan walked in and looked around at nothing in particular, feeling a little awkward. "…Don't suppose you'd like some help?"

"Well it's no offense to you, Stanley, but to be frank, it's probably too nerdy for you to understand.", Ford explained indifferently. "I doubt I'd be able to even properly explain to you what it is I'm looking for exactly."

At this, Stanley couldn't help but frown some and he leaned against the doorway while Ford turned back to shuffling through papers.

"…Did it ever occur to you that over 30 years, I actually took the time to study a bunch of science stuff to at least TRY to figure out your portal?", Stan remarked.

"Really?", he tried to sound sarcastic, but he sounded more uncaring by accident.

"…YEAH. _REALLY._ ", Stan's nerves started to become grated from Ford's belittlement.

Ford sighed, hating to be interrupted, and turned back to look at Stan again.

"So..? What's the point?", he asked. "This is magic, not science."

"SO, my point is that _maybe_ I'm not as dumb as you think anymore.", Stanley frowned more. " _Maybe_ you should give me a chance to help you out. I can read words on a sheet of paper, Stanford."

"It's not just reading words, Stanley. It's a specific set of papers that- Hell I don't even know if I put them in a folder or copied it all into a book! Either way, it's full of complicated theories. Long walls of words written over several pages, I don't know if you could tell it apart from anything else I have!", Stanford rolled his eyes, hating how long this was taking.

"Well try me!", Stanley challenged, coming in and around to where Ford sat. "Come on, brainiac! You're so smart? Try to explain it to me. What _exactly_ \- No, tell me BASICALLY what I can find in these stupid texts!"

"Alright, fine!" Ford growled. "It would give examples of spells and show the basic structure by pulling out key phrases like greek and latin roots and under that give a definition of how it worked into the spell. It looked like a vague pyramid to me."

"Alright! Anything else?"

"YES! There were graphs to explain different _strengths_ to spell casting and how that worked! Some were shaped like a grid, some were shaped like a circle."

"That's a stupid graph."

"You're probably too stupid to fully appreciate it!"

"You're probably going to eat your words when I find it in less than half an hour!"

"Oh sure, I'd like to see that.", Ford scoffed before picking up a large stack of papers and shoving them into Stan's arms. "HERE. Start with _that!_ "

Stan huffed and sat back in a chair. He started sorting through them too and Ford went back to the ones currently in his lap.

For a moment, things were quiet and Ford started to calm down. He sighed a little and more carefully searched the folders while another part of his mind went to work untangling his stress and calming down into his research. At least Stanley was keeping quiet and actually seemed focused. Ford glanced up, making sure his brother actually was reading through them too.

And Stanley was. He couldn't fully read everything on the papers and Ford was right, but he knew how to bluff in looking like he was actually paying attention. His eyes blankly scanned the papers for anything specific to jump out at him like "spells" or "witchcraft" and so far nothing. Not even anything resembling a pyramid or graph would show to him. He checked a few more papers in the folder and then sat them aside to his left and started on the next. Instinctively he went to push up his glasses, but then paused and almost chuckled at the reminder to himself that his cataracts were cleared and his vision was 20-20 once again. Instead he rubbed the bridge between his eyes and scanned a few more papers.

It was quiet for the most part until Stanley began tapping his foot on the floor in a steady, calm, tempo. At first, Ford could actually feel the sound of such a small vibration hit his ear drum just right to irritate him and distract him, but soon it was tuned out once more as mere white-noise and Ford focused again on the papers, setting aside another book and picking up a smaller folder.

"T…t-t-t-t-t-t…", Stan started, once again breaking Ford's concentration. "T-t-t-t-t-t-t-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-sho-shoooooooo…?"

Ford looked up and noticed Stan was frowning at the papers in his hands and hoped he had finished, seeing that he stopped scatting and toe-tapping. But Stan shrugged and set the papers away and started up yet again. Ford growled quietly under his breath in agitation as he felt his ears almost literally cringe.

 _'Some things NEVER change…'_ , Ford thought to himself, looking back at his papers.

"Sh-sh-sh-sh…", Stanley continued. "Sh-ch-ch-ch…do-do-doo.."

 _'Oh GOSH he's humming now.'_ , Ford groaned internally wanting to bang his head on a desk. _'I can either tell him to stop now or just keep my mouth shut… If I say anything now he won't recognize what I'm telling him to stop about, but if I keep quiet he's going to keep at it until I lose my temper. Dammit.. I hate it when he does this and he knows it!'_

Ford sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Dun-dun-dun-do..", Stan continued, unaware of Ford's internal struggle. "Sortin' through papers..da-da-da… Wonderin'…what's gonna happen.. Do do do-do…. Think we might just die.."

Ford's grip on the book's sides tightened and he quickly sat it down and stood up. He did _not_ feel like hearing another one of Stanley's made-up tuneless hums and instead he put on an 8-track. It was nice to know his brother didn't move all of his things around and the spare room was still the same as he left it. After a moment some classical song started to play and Ford sighed a little, relieved to hear something that actually made sense, and went back to where he was sitting.

Stanley heard the music suddenly play and snapped up from his own concentration.

While Ford felt like his ears could respectfully enjoy the feel of such clarity in the music, Stan internally wanted to groan and roll his eyes. It was so BORING and overdone. He grumbled a little and went back to his stack.

Ford knew his brother didn't care for Mozart, but at the time he couldn't care. As long as his ears wouldn't be assaulted with even more nonsense.

They worked for a while like this, Stan's foot tapping more in agitation than absent-mindedness. He knew why Ford would put on music and was personally annoyed his brother didn't just say that he was humming again. After a moment though he thought of how to have fun anyway.

"…We're gonna die. We're gonna die. Yes my brother didn't know what the spell was. We're gonna die.", he hummed along with the song, smirking.

Ford's eyes widened, hearing his brother's made up lyrics and he almost groaned again as he rolled his eyes.

"He thought that maybe letting Dipper have the journals was a good idea.", Stan teased, looking at his brother. "But he did not think that it was really stupid. And now we're all doomed, to his madness."

Ford growled and scowled back at his brother, absolutely unable to read the papers and then even more so angry to see Stan wasn't even reading the papers. Stan's smirk only widened and he was encouraged to continue.

"We're gonna die. We're gonna die. Yes and now my brother's really mad.", Stan continued. "Cause he hates it when I try to play along and enjoy the work cause it's all so nerdy."

"CAN YOU BE SERIOUS FOR _FIVE MINUTES_?", Ford growled finally.

"No I won't.", Stan continued, on a roll and proud of himself as he swiveled the chair away from him. "Cause you wouldn't say please to me in a kind manner."

"Oh my gosh! STANLEY!", Ford groaned pushing back his hair in quickly accumulating frustration.

"You don't know the side, affects caused by, this silly spell that you, just had to write in your dumb journals!"

Suddenly Ford jammed the stop button on the 8-track and Stanley's chair was immediately spun around so that they were face to face.

" _PLEASE_ STOP IT WITH THE _NONSENSE!_ ", Ford growled.

He got up and stormed back to what he was doing. Stanley stared after him, surprised by the outburst. He sighed a little. He was only trying to have fun. But he looked back down at the paper and went back to reading.

"..Sorry.", he mumbled under his breath, unheard by his brother.


	3. Chapter 3

It was an hour before lunch time when Stanley groaned loudly and fell back against the chair, wanting to claw his eyes out.

"This is worse than going through your homework to copy the answers!", he groaned, numbers and letters still swirled in his sight.

"Told you it was too nerdy.", Ford remarked coolly.

"It's not that it's too nerdy. Heck, Ford, I've stopped to actually READ a few of these from sheer boredom and now I'm considering a few ideas for the Mystery Shack, but my GOSH! how much crap did you have to record?!"

"As much as I can.", Ford replied. "But what do you mean you actually stopped and read some of it?"

"I mean I spent about half an hour in here reading on the properties of fairy dust and how sometimes it can make things disappear.", Stan sighed tiredly and closed another book with a small thump.

Ford sighed as well and sat aside another folder. He stretched and groaned a little, surprised how tired he really was.

"Ooh.. Wait, ow..", he stretched back a bit more, feeling a pop in his spine before calling it good and standing up. "Interesting. I look young but I still feel old…"

"Yeah you're telling me..", Stanley said and sat the stack he was working on aside.

He stood up too, stretched with a yawn.

Ford regarded his brother and how the morning progressed and couldn't help but chuckle to himself some.

"Hm? What?", Stanley asked, looking back at him. "What's so funny?"

Ford shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"I'm not entirely sure, it was just a silly notion of the idea of if you and I worked on my research back in the day.", Ford explained. "Like, if there was a parallel universe where you came up here to live with me while I was working on the portal and researching anomalies."

"Huh, yeah you're right, that is silly.", Stan scoffed a little with a sarcastic smirk. "And maybe in this beautiful parallel universe, you didn't hate me and we actually got along like brothers."

He had started to head out, but the last of Stanley's comment caught Ford for a moment. He halted and then looked back from the doorway.

"Wait, what do you mean a parallel universe where I didn't hate you?", Ford asked. "I never hated you."

"Really? Cause you didn't seem to be so chummy with me when I came and you gave me that journal.", Stanley explained.

"Well I was under an unhealthy amount of stress at the time, but I still didn't _hate_ you.", Stanford turned fully to face him now.

Stanley gave him a disbelieving look. Ford remembered the burn on his shoulder and frowned a little, starting to understand where he was coming from.

"…I was mad at you, but I don't _hate_ you, Stanley. I never did.", Ford said again, hoping the sincerity would show through to him.

"…really could've fooled me.", Stanley simply said, ignoring the pang in his stomach.

He shuffled past Ford on his way out, but had managed to leave his brother stunned. Stanley had always been a man who didn't show hurt. But Ford could just catch it there at the end. And for a moment, wasn't sure if he even heard right. But the more he thought of it, the more he found his surprise really settled with the fact that Stanley thought Ford hated him.

 _'No.. He thinks I still do.'_ , Ford worried. _'But…why? I was mad at him, I can understand why it may have looked like I did used to hate him, but as of recently?'_

Without having to be said, it was time for lunch. Mabel closed off the shack, Dipper finished his last tour, and the family met up in the kitchen with leftovers and scrambled meat.

"So how're you guys doing?", Mabel asked, setting the fez on the table nearby.

"Hm.", Stanley shrugged indifferently. "Ford doesn't know where he left the texts."

"It's not in the spare room. And it's not likely to be down in the lab…", Ford listed. "…But there are quite a few places I've left research papers around the house…."

One place came to mind, but he had hoped Stan wouldn't follow after him to help there. There should at least be ONE room in the house that's private.

"Mm.. Well it's not in the attic or living room or the museum.", Dipper listed, lifting the eye-patch before eating. "And it's not here in the kitchen for certain."

"I can easily say it's not in any part of the Mystery Shack or my bedroom.", Stan chimed in.

"…Not entirely sure of that.", Ford mused. "Might have to keep the Shack closed for the rest of the day. I know I used to have several hiding locations through.. Which part is it now? The gift shop?"

"You have a better chance getting a closer study at this spell's spooky side effects than you do keeping the shop closed all day.", Stanley scowled.

"But we'd have no idea what the consequences would be, Stanley.", Ford frowned.

"Well you know, maybe there aren't any consequences and you're just being paranoid.", Stanley argued. "But the Shack is NOT going to be closed for a FULL DAY. I have four mouths to feed."

"Have you two been fighting the whole time you were in the spare room?", Dipper asked.

"Yes/No.", the twins answered at the same time.

The frowned at each other.

"…Sort of..", Ford admitted.

"I suppose..", Stan leaned back in his chair.

Dipper and Mabel both groaned and slumped back in their chairs.

"No WONDER it's taking forever!", Mabel groaned. "Do you have to search the gift shop?"

"Just for a little while and then I'll see what I can find in the lab.", Ford promised, noting in his mind that by "lab", he meant the private study.

"Fine. But make it snappy. We've got tourists coming at 12:45.", Mabel insisted.

"Got it."

"And I want Grunkle Stan to help you.", Mabel continued.

"Wait, huh?", Ford looked up from his meal.

"4 eyes are better than 2.", Mabel pointed out. "Besides, what else is Grunkle Stan gonna do?"

"I dunno, watch TV I guess?", Stan scratched the back of his neck, knowing how he and Ford didn't get along too well.

"Grunkle Stan, you and Ford could cover more ground if you worked together.", Dipper intoned. "You could cover the lab's floor and Grunkle Ford could cover other territories."

Dipper and Ford exchanged glances, knowing full and well that his private study and more importantly, the rift, was supposed to be kept a secret.

"..I guess.", Stan sighed some.

Suddenly Ford groaned and held his stomach tightly, startling the others. He bent over the table, trying to cope with it.

"Whoa! You okay?", Stanley asked.

"Ahh…!", Ford groaned some and he made a tight fist that cracked his knuckles.

After a moment he breathed and things calmed down.

"That was weird…", he said quietly as he sat back up, slowly, keeping a calm, steady breath.

"Grunkle Ford?", Mabel asked, concerned.

"What happened?", Dipper asked.

"I don't know. It's like all of a sudden the food was way too heavy on my stomach..", Ford took a drink of water. "I'm fine now, but…."

"…Do you think it was the spell?", Dipper asked.

"…Might be but..", Ford looked at Stan curiously. "That would've meant you felt it too?"

Stan shrugged.

"I don't feel sick. Maybe it was too much grease from that meat.", he said, clueless.

"…Might've been..", Ford shrugged.

"…Should ALL of us help look for the texts?", Dipper asked Mabel.

"But someone's gotta keep the Shack going and I can't do it without you, Wendy, and Soos.", Mabel sighed.

"True.", Dipper sighed some. "Guess you and Stan better get on it then, Grunkle Ford."

"Right."

They cleaned up lunch's dishes and Ford and Stan headed down into the lab.

"Now, I'll go ahead and tell you, Stanley, I've dismantled the portal.", Ford explained during the elevator ride. "So careful of the debris. But other than that, while you cover the lab's floor, don't touch anything in the cases on the wall, okay?"

"Right. But what about you?", Stanley asked.

"I'll be covering the Gift Shop and the second floor seeing as I'm the only one with the key to it.", Ford shrugged some.

"No, I mean, what about that stomach ache?", Stanley asked, glancing at him a little in concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Ford looked at him curiously for a moment. He shrugged, as if a little dumbfounded.

"I'm..okay right now, Stanley. Um… I don't know what that was about. It was there one moment and gone the next. So…", he shrugged. "If something comes up, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Okay.", Stanley nodded some.

Stanley stepped off into the lab and then Ford closed the elevator and rode up to the second floor. Lee looked around the lab and sighed a little. It was possibly one of the most depressing rooms in the house to him, but many a sleepless night down here served him well to know where to start searching for any scattered papers. He pulled out all the facts and forms he could find and piled it together and sat down to sort.

Stan didn't show pain. He didn't show emotion. He didn't show hurt. Of the few times he did, what did it give him? A brother who turned him away, a father who was disappointed in him…

 _"Grunkle Stan… I trust you…"_

Stanley sighed a little. About the only good it ever did him to show emotion was a closer bond with his niece and nephew. But that was still in a rare occasion. He didn't want them to think he was a softie or something.

Stan sighed and shook his head a little.

 _'Come on, Stan. Focus. The sooner you find this stupid thing, the sooner things will be relatively normal again..'_

And while Stanley worked in the lab, Ford had scanned the gift shop as fast as possible. He took whatever papers he had hidden in rafters and behind walls, and took them down to sort in the Study. There, he pulled out drawer after drawer, rummaging through the folders as quickly as possible. His mind was a buzzing knot of concern.

 _'What if it wasn't a normal stomach ache?'_ , he worried. _'What if it_ was _part of the spell's process? What would happen then? I need to find these answers and get Stan and I back to normal age. That didn't feel like a normal stomach ache…'_

It wasn't the actual tissue of his organs that hurt, but rather something just…there. His core. It tightened and twisted into a sharp pain but then left with an aftermath equivalent to being punched in the guts.

Ford paused in his research and pondered. He checked a reflective surface nearby and stared hard. He didn't seem to have changed. He was still a lot younger than he was supposed to be. But then he finally noticed it.

His five-o-clock shadow was missing. He frowned, rubbing his jawline. He HAD gotten younger. He didn't have one until his late 20's and early 30's. Now it was in his earlier 20's. Not quite as dorky as his teenage years, but around the time he would've first arrived in Gravity Falls, so many years back. Only one question nagged him.

Why didn't Stanley have a stomach ache too?

 _'Maybe it's different.'_ , Ford worried. _'Maybe he'll experience something different to me. Or he did and just didn't say anything.'_

Either way, the spell was still working and he was getting younger. A quick thought lead to the conclusion it would be a backwards march of their time. Soon enough they'll be crawling toddlers unless Ford found a way to reverse things. And FAST. Who knew when the next interval would take place?

A few hours dragged by and Ford was still up to his arms in papers. Nothing. Zip. _Not a single clue!_ Ford was starting to get frustrated as he slammed another stack of papers to his right. He was so consumed with frustration, he didn't hear the door opening up.

Ford grumbled some, half wondering if he should start over and separate papers of magic from papers of science. Or books from scrolls from folders. Either way the amounts have added up now that it would feel that taking the time to organize would only waste precious time. And of course everything was only a mess because he was a raving mad man before falling into the portal, cursed with suspicion and restlessness thanks to a certain demonic triangle that would still haunt him from time to time. So of course he couldn't think to organize anything.

He almost didn't hear Stanley call his name the first time.

"Later..", he grumbled, before catching himself and straightening up in his seat. "Oh. Sorry Stanley I-"

He turned around but was shocked in finding his brother, also a little younger, and holding a thick, old, book in one hand and in the other, the rift.


	4. Chapter 4

Both were frozen, staring at each other for a long time. Ford wasn't sure to move or speak but Stanley seemed to know his fear.

"…So you SAY you destroyed your portal..", Stanley began slowly. "And you didn't think to tell me that you had THIS going on instead?"

"Stanley, it's not another portal.", Ford tried to correct.

"YEAH? _Then what is it?_ "

"It-! It's-! It's complicated! Just-!", Ford struggled and tried to get a hold on his temper. "Just.. _give it to me…_ It's delicate!"

"No! Not until you tell me, HONESTLY, what the heck you think you've been doing?!", Stanley growled and slammed the thick book on a desk nearby. "Whatever this is, you didn't tell me about it! And not only that, but I'm willing to bet you've talked about it with DIPPER instead!"

"Yeah but Stanley-!"

"And I told you to keep this sorta stuff AWAY from the kids!", Stanley continued. "I'm _trying_ to keep them _safe_ , but you're letting a _12 year-old_ handle this Whatever, and telling _ME how delicate it is!_ "

"Stanley you _don't_ understand!"

"I WOULD IF YOU WOULD JUST TELL ME THIS SHIT ONCE IN A WHILE!", Stanley practically screamed. "WHY DO YOU INSIST I'M JUST _STUPID?!_ "

 _"I don't!"_

"Then tell me what the heck is going on around here?!"

"When you charged up the portal to full power it created a rip in our world and _that's_ what that is!", Ford started to explain. "Dipper proved to be cautious and intelligent so I told him, but I didn't wanna scare you and Mabel! I didn't think you two could handle the truth or know how to treat it with care!"

"Alright, see, right there! _RIGHT THERE!_ ", Stanley pointed at him with the rift in hand.

"Careful!", Ford flinched.

"I _AM!_ ", Stanley's knuckles cracked in his other hand. "Dang it Ford, I can handle a stupid snow-globe! _I sell them for a living for crying out loud!_ "

"Sorry!", Ford cringed. "Just-! Can you set it down… _PLEASE?!_ "

" _No!_ Not until I say my piece. And you're gonna listen for once!", Stanley insisted. "ALL these years, all you ever thought of me was your stupid double! _I'm not STUPID!_ I'm not as BRILLIANT as you are, but that doesn't mean I can't understand that your machine would've caused a rip in our dimension! NO! YOU THINK A TWELVE YEAR-OLD, PARANOID BOY IS SMARTER THAN I AM! Dipper's only been here for the Summer. _I've been living in this spooky forest for THIRTY FREAKING YEARS STANFORD!_ I'm NOT an idiot! I'm NOT just a dumber version of you! I would've understood if you stopped thinking I'd just RUIN EVERYTHING!"

"WELL WHY DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!", Ford blew up. "When we were _KIDS_ you messed up my science fair projects! When I asked you for your help, you nearly _burned my research_ , and pushed me in the portal! Even after that, THIRTY YEARS? And you STILL manage to take what I have and MESS THINGS up! YOU created that tear, Stanley! On top of that, _you_ rolled the infinity die– which could've _killed_ us all!– not a DAY after I came back! Why do you think I _don't_ trust you?! You NEVER took ANYTHING of mine seriously!"

"Guess what? I AM NOW.", Stanley growled. "And I'm taking THIS THING as well!"

He started to head for the door.

"I'm making SURE that Dipper and Mabel aren't going to get too close to this rift thing and once you cast your stupid spell, Dipper's not going to see your spooky journals or your nerdy science ANY MORE."

"NO! Stanley you don't know what you're messing with!", Ford ran after him.

Stanley turned around and held out an arm to hold his brother back while Ford reached for the rift in Stanley's other hand.

"Give it back!", Ford insisted.

"NO!", Stanley growled. "I'M making sure you don't let Mabel OR Dipper see this! Since YOU seem to just not care what happens to _either one!_ "

He shoved Ford hard, making the man stumble back and ducked away into the elevator. Ford ran after, but was too late. The doors had closed and Stanley rode it up.

"DANG IT STANLEY!"

It wasn't long after Stan had stepped off the elevator that it went back for Ford. He hurried upstairs and came out into the gift shop. Fortunately no one was around yet except for Wendy.

" _Whoa!_ Stan, is that YOU?", she asked, surprised in seeing the 20-something Stanley emerge.

"Not now, Wendy.", Stanley took off into the house as fast as he could without running.

Ford was shortly behind him and when he caught up to Stanley in the living room and the two struggled over the rift.

Suddenly another pang coursed through Stanley's body and it was worse than what he shrugged off earlier. He jolted and groaned and doubled over.

Ford acted fast and dove to catch the rift as Stanley dropped it before it hit the ground. He would've sighed with relief, except that then, his own stomach suddenly hurt, making him curl up and hold himself in pain.

Stanley took the time, struggling through his pain, to snatch the rift again and push his brother away with his foot.

When Ford rolled over on the carpet, Stanley watched as he aged back younger still to teenage years, getting smaller and thinner. He was surprised because he knew that meant he was getting younger too. He looked down and saw his clothes ripple and change as well as his aging, back into the white shirt and jeans he used to wear.

"Augh..", Ford groaned, his voice cracked a little, and picked himself up as the pain started to subside. He was back to also wearing jeans and his yellow long-sleeve polo. "Stanley, please! I'm sorry! Could you just give it to me?!"

"It's a little late for apologies, Ford!", Stanley got up to his feet and kept running.

"No, Stanley, come on!"

Ford raced after him straight to his bedroom where Stanley ran into his room and locked the door behind him. Ford banged on it in frustration.

"STANLEY! Come on! This is immature!", Ford yelled through the wood.

 _"I don't care!"_ , Stan called back through, shocked a little at how high and crackling his voice was sounding. "YOU can go research your spell stuff, but I'M making sure this thing is kept where NO ONE can find it!"

"It doesn't work like that!", Ford growled. "You know my science is more complicated than that!"

"I said _I DON'T CARE!_ "

Ford groaned in frustration.

"You-! This is why I-! Aah! I can't work with you, Stanley! You're so STUBBORN!", Stanford ranted and kicked the door in frustration. "You know WHAT?! It would probably just be better if you _stayed_ there! I'll reverse this spell and get us out of this mess on my own like I _ALWAYS_ do! I don't have time to fight this out with you! If you'll be so kind as to give me back my rift when you're done having your _tantrum_ , MAYBE we can talk this out like reasonable adults!"

He stormed away from the door and back into his study.

Stanley waited on the other side of the door, having listened to everything Ford said. It's been a long time since he felt such a weird mix of emotions.

He was mad at Dipper for hiding the rift from him. He was furious at Ford for letting Dipper near it and still thinking he was an idiot. He was insulted that Ford didn't come to him first to ask if Dipper should be let around this thing. He was personally terrified because the first thing he thought of when he saw the swirling mass of black space was watching Stanford fall into the portal and disappear. Soon followed by the same horrible image of Dipper or Mabel falling into the same thing and being lost _for good._ The mere thought of losing them caused chills to run down his spine.

He spent all that time trying to get Ford back and so far he thought Ford hid away in the lab because he hated him and still cared more for his research than he did for family. When really Ford was trying to hide this stupid rift. Looking down at it now, Stanley almost wanted to just smash it on the floor and be rid of it, but instead sat it aside on a table, making sure it was well on the tabletop.

He groaned and fell back onto his bed.

"Yeesh.. Was I really THIS emotional when I was a teenager?", he sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Or is it just the hormones?"

He tried to make sense of the situation. He saw the rift and knew Ford was hiding secrets from him again. So why did that have to bug him so badly? Why did it matter to him if Ford wanted to keep to himself? Why did it have to bug him so badly that Ford thought he couldn't handle the truth?

 _'…cause that's what I_ always _heard.'_ , Stanley sighed and sat up on his bed. _'Stanley Pines was nothing compared to his oh-so-special and smart brother Stanford.'_

He stared down at his hands. He remembered when he was really little and wished he had six fingers like Stanford just so he'd be special too. Which is why his mom started picking up saying he had a "special personality", to which he never fully believed to be all that special.

For the time they were just kids, he remembered Ford had always agreed they were a team. He remembered Ford actually used to feel uneasy about being separated from him because Stanley always had his back. But when he became a teacher's pet, when he earned their dad's approval, it's like everything suddenly disappeared. And Stanley was left behind. Lost in the shadows of his brother's limelight.

Stan heaved another sigh. If he was brutally honest with himself, he knew he screwed up. And it wasn't a first.

 _'No wonder he hates me..'_ , Stanley thought miserably to himself.

Without wanting to give an emotional spill over saying he's sorry, Stan figured he'd just set the rift back down in the lab for him where he found it. Whatever Ford had planned, Stan had to admit, he was a genius and therefore most likely knew what he was doing.

 _'I'm still not gonna let Dipper play near it though..'_ , thought firmly in his mind.

He came out of his room, the rift in hand, and started down the hallway. Before he could get to the gift shop though, he heard Dipper from behind.

"Whoa! Grunkle Stan, is that you?", he asked, sounding stunned.

Stanley turned around and saw Dipper's surprised expression turn into a look of horror as his eyes fell on the rift.

"..Yeah, and I was gonna ask you, how long were you planning on keeping _this_ a secret?", he asked, holding it up a little.

"Ah..um..uh..", Dipper stammered, lifting the eye patch. "Uhhhhhh…..wh-when.. Heh, when did you uh.. _Find that_?"

He tried to smile though it was pitiful. Stan returned it with a stern look of expecting an answer.

"..Dipper?", he asked.

"Ah- Okay, yeah, Grunkle Ford told me about it.", Dipper looked down. "..Af-after that "D,D,& More D" adventure. I wasn't.. I promised Grunkle Ford I wouldn't tell about it…"

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and Stan sighed and leaned against a wall, rolling his eyes a little.

"Yeah, that was easy to guess.", he said, looking down at the rift. "Don't have to freak or nothing, kid. I've got a good hold on it."

Dipper looked at him for a moment and felt a little concerned. Stan didn't seem as jerky and confident like he always was. He certainly didn't sound as confident in himself as he typically did.

"…Something wrong, Grunkle Stan?", Dipper asked.

It was Stan's turn to keep his gaze to the floor and after a moment he sighed again.

"Kid, I know I'm not a genius like Ford but.. You don't think I'm just…", he shrugged. "You don't think I'm dumb as mud, do you?"

He looked back and saw Dipper frowning more. He tilted his head to the side a little, as if curious.

"Uh.. I dunno..", he said slowly.

"…Yeah, that's kinda what I figured.", Stan frowned some himself, thinking Dipper meant he couldn't say he was stupid. He slid to the floor with a sigh.

"No! No, Grunkle Stan, I mean like..", Dipper searched for the right words. "…I mean, you're not smart like Ford is… But.. I dunno. You DO have a lot of dumb moments and are kinda irrational in your decision making.."

Stan only frowned more and raised an eyebrow, not really sure if there was some underlying helpfulness in his words or if Dipper was flat out insulting him. Dipper was quick to add.

" _But_ I mean… Well it's certainly not easy to think of new attractions! And sometimes you're actually pretty clever.", Dipper tried to smile, though his grunkle seemed disbelieving. He sighed, not really sure how to phrase it. "It's like.. Well you're smart in _different_ ways. You're not academically approved, but you are smart in other ways."

"..You really think so?", Stanley asked.

"Yeah, you're a con artist." That has to take some amount of creativity and wits.", Dipper smiled more genuinely.

"Just.. not as amazing as my brothers.", Stan summarized.

"Well yeah, he's a genius.", Dipper agreed. "But…y'know, thinking over the Summer, what you lack in brains, you make up for it with heart."

Stanley finally smiled, touched by the thought.

"..Well.. You know, some people would say I lack a lot of brains, compared to Ford.", Stanley said with a small shrug.

"Well then inversely speaking, you have a pretty big heart.", Dipper retorted. "And that's not exactly a _bad_ thing either."

"…Thanks Kid.", he said at last. "Guess I kinda needed to hear that.. Think Ford feels the same?"

"I dunno.", Dipper shrugged. "How about _I_ take that rift back to him and ask?"

"Heh, nice try Kid but I'm forbidding you from gettin' involved with this thing at all.", Stan smirked and got up. "I was gonna put it back anyway, but I think this is really just something Ford and I need to talk out."

Dipper sighed, hearing he was banned from being near the rift. But he thought for a moment and scratched his head.

"But…you know since I hang out with Ford a lot.. Can I make a suggestion for when you do talk with him?"

"What?", Stan asked, curious.

"Well… Maybe you shouldn't interrupt each other when you're talking?", Dipper suggested with a slight shrug. "Just.. Let the other say exactly what's on his mind _in full, before_ you say your piece?"

Stanley thought about it some and then smiled a little at Dipper.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks.", he said.

The teen left, heading into the gift shop and slipping behind the vending machine while no one was around.

* * *

 _A/N: What do you think? Is it gonna get any better or just get worse? =3_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Almost at the end! =D Surprised I was able to get this much out. ^^ Hope you all like it._

* * *

Meanwhile, Ford had been looking through the book. He found the spell and deciphered its mechanics. In order to undo the problem though, it would require a very complex and precise spell that Ford would have to create himself.

Ford sighed when he reached this conclusion. Being creative in the field of hardcore, mathematically-well-calculated science was one thing when a chalkboard-full equation would help determine precisely what the damage would be before you mix the chemical compound.

Magic, however, had a different set of rules and formulating the proper spell wouldn't be easy. One wrong word and Stanford could accidentally age them both three times faster than they should and they would die before nightfall. He knew he was going to have to catch test subjects that were still fairly young and figure it out.

 _'…and fast..'_ , he thought, noting the acne-bearing face reflected on his journal's cover.

He came up to the vending machine and listened carefully. People were talking and shuffling around. He sighed in frustration, leaned against the door and slid to sit on the top stairs.

"Just great..", he grumbled. "I _literally_ don't have the time for this."

After a moment, Stanley also came up the stairs, surprising Ford a little.

"Stanley?", he said quietly. "I thought you were in your room."

"Uh, well yeah but..", Stanley scratched the back of his head some. "..Just wanted to return your snow gl-er…rift."

"Oh.", Ford nodded a little. "Alright then. Uh, I'm just waiting for the tourists to clear out.."

"…Okay.", Stanley sighed a little, annoyed that Ford hadn't said 'thank you'.

He sat across the step a little lower than his brother and they waited in silence.

After a moment, Stanley asked, "Oh, uh, did that book help you any?"

"Yes it did, actually. I've rediscovered where the original spell took place and saw it was unstable, incomplete work of the previous magician.", Ford explained. "Unfortunately I have to create a reverse, which calls for a series of tests until able to prove compatible to what we need."

"So what's the challenge?', Stanley asked.

"Formulating the proper spell.", Ford frowned a little. "I'll need a vast quantity of test subjects in order to ensure the success of this spell's complicated alignment. I'm not sure where I can get them though…"

Stanley thought for a moment and then smiled in a way that left Ford wondering.

After the tourists cleared out the twins snuck back into the house. Stanley towed his brother to his bedroom where he changed into his usual suit. He rolled up the sleeves some to make it look about like it fits. He picked up his spare fez and changed his shoes into the back-up loafers. Then they went out of the front door to the house and slipped around the backside of the shack. There they waited.

"…Explain this to me. What exactly are we waiting for?", Ford inquired, watching Stan peer around the corner of the house and watch the tour bus.

"…Well first we're waiting for that bus load of saps to leave.", Stan shrugged and checked his watch.

"…Very well, but you're starting to worry me.", Stanford frowned some more. "You're acting like you did when we really _were_ teenagers and you would drag me along with your friends to pull some sort of silly prank."

"Well that was shady work, this is shady business.", Stanley smirked. "There's a certain tone you go into with it."

"Is one of your crimes _absolutely_ necessary at this present time?", Ford asked with a disapproving look.

"Hey, you wanted lab rats, so lab rats your gonna get.", Stanley said. "Just lemme handle most of the talkin'."

"…Alright, fine.", Ford sighed a little and pushed up his glasses.

Stanley noticed the golden-speckled spectacles and quickly saw his flaw.

"Shit, wait, Ford, I'm gonna need your glasses.", Stan insisted.

"What? No! Why would-?!"

"Look, I'll give them right back, I swear.", Stan pleaded. "But I need them. Trust me."

Lee held his hand out, a little anxious. Ford looked at the hand and then back at his brother.

 _"I have a favor to ask of you…"_ , the words echoed back, just as urgent and desperate.

He hesitated. He was as blind as a bat without them and Stanley would be blinded wearing them now. He couldn't understand any of this. The bus had started up and people's chattered alerted them that they were about to leave.

"Come on, Ford, we don't have time!", Stanley urged, anxiety creeping into his voice a little.

Ford worried, but slowly, he took off the glasses and handed them over. Stan quickly shoved them on.

"Thanks.", Stan smiled a little. "Now hold still.."

He turned Ford around and coated his palm in spit. He quickly slicked Ford's hair back, making him cringe in disgust.

"Gah! Did you just rub spit into my hair?!"

"Roll with it, Sixer.", Stan ordered. "And keep your hands in your pockets."

The bus left and Stanley finished in time for a van to pull in and slowly circle the lot. It causally made its way around the shack and parked in the back where the boys stood, waiting.

"Just keep quiet.", Stan ordered.

The van turned off and a couple of thugs came out of the cab.

"Stanford?", a deep, growly, voice asked from one of them.

Stanley cleared his throat a little before his brother could speak and tried to mask his voice.

"Hey, Rico!", he greeted friendly. "I've got a bit of a cold today, so sorry if I sound uh.. Unusual.."

The two came up and the other nodded over to Ford, his voice more clear and dead-beat sounding compared to the first.

"Who's _this_?"

"Heh, who? This kid?", Stanley lied. "He's kinda interested in what we do. Said he wanted me to show him how it worked. Don't worry though, he's not a squealer."

"Hmph..", The second scoffed.

"Something off about you, Stan.", Rico said, eyeing him suspiciously. "…Get shorter?"

"Gettin' older.", Stanley shrugged, hoping the shadow of the house would serve him well. "You got them ready for me?"

The two thugs watched the twins for a moment, Ford could feel his nerves starting to knot up his insides. He wasn't sure if they were buying anything Stanley was saying, but his brother seemed confident.

 _'Isn't that just like him?'_ , Ford thought to himself.

Finally Rico reached behind him and knocked on the hood of the van. The side door slipped open and another thug and a scrawnier man helped unload a few barrels into the yard.

Stanley chuckled and nodded, he spoke in Spanish for a moment with Rico while Ford watched. He wasn't sure what was in the barrels. But before he could really question, Stanley nudged him a little and earned his attention.

"Well don't just stand there… _squirt._ ", Stanley urged giving a nod to the barrels. "Get going, move them down to the cellar."

Stanley glanced down and behind him and Ford did as well, noticing the root-cellar doors near their feet. He could just barely make out the blurry black pieces that were the handles but seemed to get the idea. He hurried to open them up while Stanley pulled aside the other two thugs, continuing to speak to them.

Ford looked down into the pitch black cellar, unsure of where the light switch was or even the first step. He had to guess. Carefully he stumbled across the yard and picked up one of the barrels. It was incredibly heavy, making it very hard for him to properly carry.

Somehow, he managed, inching his way over to the cellar and tried to carry it in while the other two working thugs snickered and watched, already done with their half of the work.

When Stanford had finally managed to reach to the bottom with the first barrel after a long period of sweat, strain, and fear of missing the next step, he heard the van start up and drive away. He sat down the barrel and looked up, trying to see as Stanley's blurry silhouette appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Y'know, you didn't really have to set it all the way down there.", he called out. "Bring it on back up and I'll show you your lab rats!"

Ford scoffed and scowled.

"Gee, maybe I will if I could _properly_ see!", he growled.

"Oh, right. Here lemme help you."

Stanley took off the glasses, turned on a light, and came down stairs, a grin on his face. He snickered as he handed the glasses back over.

"Man, are those guys suckers or what? If I didn't have your glasses they were sure to catch on.", he said.

"Is that why you need them?", Ford asked, putting them back on.

"Yeah, duh.", Stanley scoffed. "Here, we'll carry this thing back up together. It'd be easier."

He took off the tie and jacket and helped Ford carry the cargo back upstairs.

"Y'know, I have to admit, I'm surprised you're not harping me about how horrible it is to be doing illegal business.", Stanley said as they ascended.

"Well.. you know you're not the only criminal in the family right?", Ford replied.

"Heh. Yeah. Dad's pawn shop was kinda crooked.", Stan chuckled.

"Not just him Stan."

They finally came to the top and sat the barrel down. Stanley looked at Ford curiously. Ford looked back and shrugged.

"Dad's pawn shop was crooked, but I've seen worse in multi-dimensional black markets and possibly more con artists than Vegas could dream of.", Ford explained, the smallest grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Stanley was surprised and whistled to show it.

"Well well! Looks like The golden child isn't as pure as you'd think!", he smirked.

Ford shrugged. Stanley chuckled and pulled out a crowbar from under a few bushes.

"So what's in these anyway?", Stanford asked.

"Easy. People pay a pretty good price for..", Stanley popped the lid off and removed it to show a bunch of pugs. "…puppies."

Ford frowned a little, looking at all the yipping faces.

"…There's something a little disheartening about cramming all of these into barrels, but other than that I have to say..", Ford smiled some. "Good work! With this, I should have plenty of practice!"

Stanley smiled and they sat to work. Unfortunately time was slipping by and spell-casting was truly difficult.

Dipper and Mabel had come out, the Shack now closed, and soon saw a very old pug trudging across the yard.

"Aw! He's so cute and wrinkly!", Mabel grinned.

"Where'd that come from?", Dipper asked.

They saw another and a few more and followed the trail behind the house. There another bright blue light nearly blinded them and a frustrated groan followed. Incredibly high-pitched and cracking worse than Dipper's.

In a pile of young and old pugs two 12 year-old boys sat with messy mops of dark brown hair. One had glasses, a jacket, and brown corduroy pants. The other had a red-and-white striped t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and wore jeans.

"Wrong, wrong, WRONG! It's ALL _WRONG!_ ", Ford was griping, flushing red in the face from frustration and almost ready to pull his hair out. "I should've had it figured out by now!"

"Well hey, easy there, Ford.", Stanley tried to reassure while Ford rubbed his eyes, trying to prevent tears. "You…SORTA got that one right."

"OH MY GOSH! _GRUNKLE-_ Oh man we can't even CALL you 'grunkle', _can_ we?!", Dipper and Mabel squealed with laughter.

"Your voice cracks worse than mine does!", Dipper laughed, pointing at Stanley.

"Watch it, Kid, or I'll wipe that smirk off of your face!", Stanley threatened.

"Oh! Grunkle Ford, are you crying?", Mabel asked, coming over.

"NO.", Ford lied, pulling away from her before suddenly being pulled into a very tight squeeze from Mabel.

" _Aw!_ You're so tiny!"

"Gah! We're the same age as you!", Ford retorted, momentarily choked by the hold.

"I know, but I had no idea you two were so… _adorable!_ ", she squealed, releasing her grunkle.

"What on earth are you two doing anyway?", Dipper asked, looking at all the dogs.

"The only way to reverse the spell is to create a whole new one but I can't get it to come out right.", Ford grumbled.

"Well why don't you just try it out on us?", Stanley asked.

"Cause then we could end up like _THEM_.", Ford said, gesturing to a small collection of very old dogs, one of which may or may not have been breathing at the moment.

"Eugh..", Stanley grimaced. "…Guess you've got a point."

"Really Stanley, you just don't understand how risky this spell casting is.", Ford said, turning back to the list of failed spells he was writing in a notepad.

"Well I think I have a pretty good idea, since we've been sitting here for the last half hour among a bunch of DOGS.", Stanley growled some. "And you getting frustrated with this thing, _gee,_ no, I had _NO idea_ how hard it was!"

Dipper gave a sharp inhale and cringed some.

"Ooh.. Uh.. Grunkle Ford, may-maybe you should've picked your words a bit more carefully?", he tried to offer.

"Well no, I know you've seen the result of a bad spell, but Stanley you just don't-"

"NO don't even say I _don't_ understand!", Stanley interrupted, forcefully spinning his brother around to face him. "I DO! Augh! What does it take to prove to you that I do?!"

At this, Ford frowned and pulled away from his brother.

"Oh gee, like I would know! Maybe taking things seriously instead of just sitting there making stupid comments?!", he griped.

"I've nothing to do to help because you won't tell me anything!", Stanley shouted back. "Why don't you ever just _talk with me like a brother anymore?!_ Why do you _always_ have to shove me away?! WHY?! _WHY_ do you think I'm just a dumber, sweatier version of _you?!_ "

"WELL YOU ARE STUPID!", Ford replied harshly, fed up with his brother's outbursts.

He was suddenly met with a punch in the face, which caused Mabel to gasp and Dipper to run to Ford's side as he bent over and held his nose in pain.

"Grunkle Ford! Oh my gosh, are you okay?!", he asked.

Despite the pain from his bleeding nose, Ford was shocked. He looked up at his brother, fists balled up and looking like he was about to cry.

"…St…Stanley?", Ford asked, a little dumbfounded.

" _I'M NOT STUPID!_ ", he shouted. "ALL I EVER WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO BE MY BROTHER! BUT ALL YOU EVER DID WAS TREAT ME LIKE _DAD_ WOULD!"

Ford slowly stood up, not sure what to say or even if he should say anything. Of all the frustration being pent up for over 40 years, it was simply too much for a small child to cope with and the result overwhelmed them both.

"I spent over _half_ my life trying to get you back, trying to say how SORRY I was for _everything_ I ever screwed up and what do I get?! WHAT DO YOU DO?!", Stanley scowled back. "WHY do you just INSIST that I wouldn't get it?! Why do you keep just shoving me away?! I KNOW I screwed up but _WHY_ DO YOU HATE ME?! _WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THAT KIND OF HATE FROM MY OWN BROTHER?!_ "

Stanley broke down into sobs and hiccups. He couldn't hold it back any more. He couldn't fight off the wave of tears that flowed. Everything hurt. He tried to messily wipe away the tears but it only blurred his vision.

No one knew what to do, or what to say. Dipper and Mabel looked at each other, mutually feeling a sense of awkwardness and hurt for both twins. Slowly, Stanford broke the silence.

"..I'm…I-…", he stuttered, earning his brother's attention. "…I didn't.. I-I… I..don't… _hate_ you…Stanley."

Stanley sniffled and rubbed his eyes dry to look back at Stanford's wide eyes of hurt, shock, and apology. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. He almost opened his mouth to say something, but held it off, waiting to see what else could be said.

"…I _never_ hated you… I…", he swept the ground with his eyes and gave a small sigh, unsure how to phrase it. "I didn't…know.. I-I was just trying to.."

He looked back at Stanley and for a moment, looked like he wanted to cry too.

"..I kept shoving you away because…I wanted you to be kept _safe._..", he said.

"…All I wanted to do was help you.", Stanley sniffled. "Even if I didn' get it…or got hurt.. I… I wanted to help you… I wanted to be your partner! Like an equal! Not.. Not just some dumb… _shadow._ "

Ford rubbed the back of his neck in guilt. He sighed a little.

"…I really have treated you like that..haven't I?" he asked, looking back over the years.

"I know I screw up a lot.. I've tried to be better about it but…", Stanley said. "…I just wanted to be your brother again…"

Ford was quiet for a long time. He wasn't sure how to feel about this other than guilty. Stanley stared at the ground. What more could he say? Then finally after a while, he spoke again softly.

"…I…..I'm sorry.", he said in a very small voice. "…y..you're still my brother…you always will be. No more secrets."

Ford and Stan looked back at each other and Ford gave a small smile and held out his hand.

"….high-six?", he asked.

Stanley looked at the hand and smiled sadly. He pressed his hand to the other and both smiled a little more.

"….AUGH!", Mabel groaned, startling the others. "That-?! NO! _No._ No no no."

She grabbed Ford by the shoulders and shoved him into his brother.

" _HUG IT OUT!_ ", she shouted at them.

"Ew! No!", Stanford almost laughed and pushed himself away from Stanley though Mabel was still trying to force it. "He's all sweaty!"

At this, Stanley smirked and hugged him close, making his brother gag and laugh in disgust.

"Come on, nerd!", he laughed.

"Ew gross! _NO!_ ", Ford laughed and then hugged him back.

Soon though, hug became awkward and they let go and smiled at each other weakly.

"Okay. Well now that you two have pretty much gotten your emotional issues cleared out, what are we gonna do about the spell?", Dipper asked.

Ford sighed.

"….I don't know..", he said. "Like I said, it's complicated. Greek roots determine what _kind_ of spell it is I'm using. Ustalksus-ese determines the _specification_ of the spell. And backwards messages determine how _stable_ the spell is, but I don't know how to put it all together without making us too old…"

"Well.. I dunno. Why can't you just say the spell backwards or something?", Stanley asked.

As if the answer fell in a sense of clarity and heavenly light, Ford's eyes widen as he gazed off into nothing but the pure solution to such a problem.

"….aw for crying out-!", he groaned, scowling at the sky, almost like Fate was hanging above them and taunting him, before he started scribbling again. "Speaking the original spell backwards with a few add-ins and it should work."

Everyone smiled and Ford quickly chanted it at the closest small dog nearby. The spell took affect and there were cheers and Mabel and Dipper high-fived each other.

Suddenly Stanley cried out in pain and held himself tight. A sharp, burning pain seared through his body. Ford gasped and quickly started chanting the spell for the two of them. At the end of it, the pain started to affect him too.

Both were suffering as the sensation only grew worse. Ford started to feel nauseous and he was on fire from head to toe, burning in such pain. His nervous system felt like it was being stabbed at from every angle and direction and he cried in pain. The world swam and spun around in his vision until finally he couldn't feel the ground anymore and everything went black with the sole last question to echo in his mind.

 _'Am I too late?'_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Last chapter! =D Real happy with this. Thanks so much for reading everyone. Please review!  
_

* * *

Some hours later Stanley woke up in a dark room, a little disoriented as to where he was. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. His head felt fuzzy and swirling like a weird headache. He could almost feel the blood having to rush from his head to his feet and back again and it made it feel weird to breath, like hanging upside down on the couch for too long.

Soon enough though, he was okay and made sense of his darkened bedroom. He rolled over onto his back and suddenly felt a sharp pain for doing so.

"Gah! What the-?!", he suddenly remembered his old-man random pains and soon rubbed the spot better. "For crying out.. Wait.."

He sat up and looked back down. His hands were large, lightly scarred, and kind of dry and crusty. Just clenching them into a fist without trying caused the knuckles to crack, more achingly than intimidatingly. He laughed a little, the deep growl and scratchy feel in his throat settled back into place, almost sorely.

"Yes we did it! I'm back in my old body!", he threw his hands up only to suddenly be reminded yet again of the sore spot in his back which gave a quick crack as well and caused him to cringe and groan and lean over again. " _Oh!_ Ohh.. Yeah.. Back to my _OLD_ body…"

He got his glasses and out of bed. He was already dressed in his suit and he came out to the house.

"Kids? Ford?", he called out.

He came into the living room where Dipper and Mabel were giggling. There he found Ford, already awake and just as old again.

Mabel gasped and sprung to her feet.

"Grunkle Stan, you're up!"

She came up and hugged him tight. He chuckled and hugged back.

"Yeah, looks like we're back to normal.", he said.

"Any weird side effects? You feeling alright?", Ford asked.

"Well I'll probably have to look over myself later, see if all the scars are back in place.", Stan shrugged. "But other than that I think so. I'm not puking magic or whatever."

"Heh, well you did always have a stronger stomach than I did.", Ford said, gently rubbing his own with a slight grimace. "It is interesting to note, however, that magic certainly _does NOT_ taste as sugary sweet as it will appear."

Dipper and Mabel snickered some, trying not to laugh. Stanley laughed however and sat Mabel down.

"Leave it to you, nerd, to wanna observe something as gross as vomit."

"Well anyway kids, like I promised, you stayed up till we made sure Stan and I are okay.", Ford said, checking the clock on the wall. "Time for bed."

"Aw! A little later?", Mabel asked, scooping up a photo album they had set on the floor. "We didn't get to see all the pictures!"

"Heh! Yeah, I wanted to laugh at how much like a _dork_ Stan looked as a teen!", Dipper laughed a little, the photo in hand.

Stan quickly snatched it and tucked it away in his jacket.

"Yeah yeah, another time, okay?", he said shortly. "It's after 10. _Bedtime._ Now."

The kids groaned, exchanged good-nights, hugs, and headed up stairs.

"…Hey you know, if you ever take the time to fix that first spell? Exactly how bad would it to pull it out once Summer's over?", Stanley asked with a devilish grin. "Think about it. Y'know, 20, or heck, even 30 wasn't so bad to have back."

"Well… We'll see.", Ford said with the slightest smile tugging at him, knowing good and well what all his brother was really thinking. "I doubt it, really."

Stanley shrugged it off.

"Well looks like we're up for a while.", he said. "Gonna go get a soda. You want one?"

"Yeah sure.", Ford nodded, pulling out his journal again. "…Thanks."

Stanley was already heading out, but suddenly stopped short. He almost wasn't sure if his hearing aid was turned up all the way and he looked over, wanting to ask. Ford smiled back at him, a little sadly.

"..For _everything_.", he added, a slight emphasis that he hoped conveyed his own regret for not saying so before on any number of occasions.

It didn't fly over Stan's head and he smiled, warmed and touched. Ford almost wanted to laugh, but didn't, when he could just start to see his brother's eyes gloss from tears. Finally, appreciation from his family, and Stanley walked out, a huge weight lifted off his chest.

When he came back, neither were sure what all to say at first. Or if they should say anything at all.

"…So uh.. So what started the trip down memory lane?", Stanley finally asked, looking down and picking up the photo album. "I didn't even know this thing existed.."

"Oh well.. When I got up, of course, Dipper and Mabel were anxious to make sure I was alright.", Stanford explained. "And they wanted to comment on how we looked as children compared to now. So I pulled it out. It was in my room."

"Huh..", Stanley flipped through the photos. "Didn't even know there were so many pictures of us.."

"I kind of always knew but pretending things were normal.", Ford smiled a little. "Mom liked taking pictures of us. When I told them I was moving to Gravity Falls.. She sent it to me."

Stanley stopped on a picture of the two of them, smiling and proudly climbing around their Stanowar. He smiled, but sadly.

"…We used to get along so much as kids.", he said.

"…You know… I used to keep having dreams of that fight shortly after I was in the portal..", Ford said, scratching his neck a little. "…I could never figure out who was ever in the wrong. …And I could've just as easily been a psychiatrist if I didn't find anomaly biology more fascinating."

"…I always felt like it was my fault.", Stanley sighed. "I shouldn't have gotten so mad. I remember you were…kinda crazy? I should've been a better brother."

"…I should've explained myself better, I guess..", Ford shrugged. "..I'm sorry I shoved you away.. I was a fool for doing so."

Stanley smiled.

"…Well.. It's okay… No matter what happens, I guess we'll always have each other's back whether we realize it or not.", Stanley reassured.

"Wow.. Heartfelt, Stanley.", Ford said with a small smile. "This has been…touching."

"WOW yeah, that was _CORNY._ ", Stan grimaced. "Ugh! I think we still have some left over hormones there.. I'm too old for that shit anymore!"

They laughed a little.

"Ah, but seriously. No more secrets. I promise.", Ford smiled.

"Great. Then spill poindexter.", Stanley smirked and leaned back on a wall. "I'm sure there's still more you're not telling me about that rift. And has Mabel been involved in a lot of danger either?"

"Well… I gave her a crossbow because- Here, I'll start from the beginning.", Ford shook his head slightly with a smile before he began long into the night, a drink in hand, and his brother's listening ear.

 _ **The end.**_


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